Hysterical letters to my sanity

the bird

Today I found a bird,
it's fate was written before I arrived but nonetheless I tried to bring it back to life.
Like a poorly trained necromancer I failed,
or perhaps instead of failed I did something good. Today I buried a body.
I felt like the shady figure in the horror books, walking with a small spade carefully tucked under my arm and the tin of evidence in my hand.
I dug into frozen earth for several minutes until the hole was the size of a large orange and deep enough that my arm fit well above my wrist.
I wrapped the body carefully in blue cloth, and began to bury it with tilted ease. A sense that I had put its sweet soul to rest. I spread the oats and worms over the makeshift grave, freshly turned dirt amongst moss and tree roots.
Another bird could feast and the cycle of life could continue to turn in some bitter sweet morbid affair.
Spoke a small prayer to whatever Gods could hear me. I walked home and felt like I had done something small and meaningful.